


Learn To Love

by kingfauna



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fluff, M/M, it's straight up just fluff honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 19:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20747756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingfauna/pseuds/kingfauna
Summary: Somewhere along the line, clashing opinions turned into tea and coffee times filled with pleasant chatter, raised voices hurling spite and venom turned to merely a lovers spat, and a hand that wanted to reach to choke the bright haired man to death turned into a hand that held, a hand that pet, a hand that offered gentle, gentle touches.





	Learn To Love

**Author's Note:**

> Oh God hi I'm so nervous posting this fic LMAO It's my first fe3h, be gentle haha  
I had it beta'd by one single person so if there's typos and issues still, please forgive me! I didn't want to have to subject a second person to reading it for me kHJKSD...
> 
> I really hope this is alright though!! I've fallen pretty deep for these two, man...

There were things even Hubert von Vestra did not know about himself.  
Actually, to merely say 'things' was an understatement.  
There was much, if not nearly everything that he was painfully unaware of.

There was one fact he was certain of: He despised Ferdinand von Aegir.  
Or so he thought.

War was relentless, unforgiving. He would almost call it fascinating, were it not for the implications that he was calling war fascinating, how such a life or death situation could change people, sometimes good, oftentimes bad. Though he was a man of little to no morals, so he supposed he could call war fascinating without thinking twice about it.  
While it could change people individually, it could equally change people together. He almost finds it horrifying however intrigued he is. He imagines the war is to blame where it concerns Ferdinand.  
Ferdinand and himself. He doesn't recall when his threats and insults laced with sudden want, with need, with love.

Somewhere along the line, clashing opinions turned into tea and coffee times filled with pleasant chatter, raised voices hurling spite and venom turned to merely a lovers spat, and a hand that wanted to reach to choke the bright haired man to death turned into a hand that held, a hand that pet, a hand that offered gentle, gentle touches.

Perhaps the war wasn't to blame. And perhaps “blame” was too strong a word. Too harsh. Blame insinuated he had regrets. Blame insinuated he wished he could undo everything and go back to simpler times where Ferdinand was nothing more than an eyesore and a bother.  
In some ways, he did wish that.  
If there was anything he especially hadn't known about himself, it's that he was capable of loving. 

First and foremost, he thought himself undeserving of love. His ability to love back came second. He never thought about it enough for he never imagined he would have to. To divide his attention, his devotion, his loyalty with anyone but Edelgard was unimaginable. It felt like an idea so foreign, so ludicrous that Hubert wouldn't let it cross his mind, much less entertain the possibility that he would be pledging it to Ferdinand of all people. If he could go back in time and tell his past self how things were now, how okay they were with Ferdinand, surely his past self would laugh, mock him and ask if he had lost his mind. If they had lost the war. If he had lost Edelgard and had nothing left to turn to.

So learn to love is exactly what he had done.  
Slowly but surely, though he was not perfect at it, he learned to lower his guard and open up his heart. He owed it to Ferdinand mostly, though the other man would insist he give himself more credit as well. Hubert was not the first to initiate any form of affection, for the other was miles more outgoing than he. He was the first to hold Hubert's hand, to lace their fingers together. He was the first to take the colder man's face ever so gently in his warm, loving hands and press their lips together in first kiss. He was the first to hold Hubert and tell him he was there for him, in his ups, his downs, his every waking moments.

He learned to show weakness. Insecurities.  
It was a hard obstacle to overcome. He was not accustomed to showing weakness. Seldom had anyone seen even a crack in his cold facade. Allowing the other man to see his innumerable flaws had proven to be... difficult. Very much so. The first time Hubert had broken down, in the comfort of his room, Ferdinand was there. Like a warm, brilliant ray of sunshine, he was there. No... he was not merely its rays, he was the sun. His sun.  
He couldn't remember the last time he had let an ounce of his emotions show, much less so strongly. But years of bottling them up had taken their toll, crashing down on him harder than any physical blow he could receive on the battlefield. He doesn't remember everything he cried for that night, only that his beloved had held him every step through it, whispering sweet intoxicating words of comfort. Of love. And Ferdinand, like the absolute treasure he was, spoke nothing of it the next morning. For he knew not a single ounce of Hubert's being would ever want to speak a word of it again.

What he had done to deserve someone that exceptional was beyond him.  
He could only list reasons why he was undeserving.

He had come to see that even someone as shining and as confident as Ferdinand had his down days as well. He was not immune to the incessantly cruel things Hubert had told him years back, he realizes, and he wishes in an instant that he could take all those words back. He wonders at times if to this day, those old stinging words still weighed on their brilliant ever-cheery cavalier. He really, really wished he could take them all back, every last word.  
“I'm here,” he had said, quietly. “I am here and I am not going anywhere.” Let it all out. I hate seeing you cry. He thought, but he wouldn't dare say it aloud. He was not quite there yet, and he's not certain he ever would be. But he knew he didn't have to, he knew Ferdinand knew him better than anyone else.

He remembers once, under a starlit sky, that Ferdinand had never looked more beautiful.

He had met him in the old cathedral, as per the younger man's request, through a small handwritten note that he had left by his office desk earlier that evening. A note which simply read:  
Find me by the Cathedral when the moon rises.  
Straightforward, really. It couldn't get more straightforward than that, and he would be lying if he said he wasn't hoping for something more, like a drastic declaration of love. But this was alright as well. It left much to be desired, sure, but it also left much to the imagination. An air of mystery, of implications. And damn if he wasn't hooked on the idea of something daring and risky in the Cathedral... though he wouldn't get his hopes up. That could easily be saved for another time.

When he reached his destination, he saw him by the rubble, moonlight from the Cathedral windows leaving the man before him bathing in its glow.

Beautiful. He thought in sheer awe, forever capturing the image in his memory. Ravishing. And ravish him he would, later.

“Ah,” he faintly heard, tearing him from his thoughts as the other man turned at the sound of his approaching footsteps.  
“Von Vestra.” He greeted, voice a little louder as the mage finished pulling from his thoughts.

“Von Aegir.” He returned, halting, just barely resisting the urge to say his full name. He wouldn't give him that satisfaction, for his ego was plentiful enough as it was.

“Hubie.” The man countered, smile as radiant as ever. God, did that ever pull at his damned heartstrings.

Hubert hesitated for a moment, briefly allowing a rare smile to play at his own lips as well. A smile often reserved for Ferdinand, and Ferdinand alone.  
“Ferdie.” He said at last, affection lacing the nickname fondly.

He saw bright orange locks sway suddenly as the other man moved, closing the distance between them swiftly. His arms reached to slide around Hubert, hands tenderly holding at his back, face gingerly pressing into his chest. He reciprocated, arms finding their way around Ferdinand as well, once hand carding lovingly into his hair.  
He let it sink in, treasuring every second of it, just drinking all of it in.

“It is far too lovely a night to be spending it alone.” His beloved said, pulling his head back to meet the mage's gaze.

And meet his gaze he did, for Hubert did not hesitate to look at him, truly unable to help how his smile had grown considerably, emotions clear as day on his face. A rare sight, truly.

“Indeed.” He agreed, moving both of his hands to tenderly cup the other man's face, thumbs delicately rubbing circles where they rested. More words lingered at the tip of his tongue, hanging heavy in his mind. Thinking them was one thing, but speaking them was another challenge of its own. It was the dreadful process that came with not being accustomed to, well, being in love. Loving.

“Though,” He started, and at that point he figured damn it all, there was no going back now. He tried to feign confidence, but he knew it would be seen through. Thank the world for a lover so understanding though for if he did know, he had not brought it up. “Not nearly as lovely as you, darling.“ The words had come out far more confident than he predicted, and the effect they had on Ferdinand almost made him want to continue. To shower him in compliments. He felt his beloved's face go hot under his hands and his own smile never faltered. He felt the other's hands join his, moving to lay atop them, securing his hands around his face.

Before he could try his luck with more compliments, Ferdinand's lips moved to speak.  
“I could say the same for yourself, my love.“ 

Compliments. Curses, he could never get used to those. Not to say he hated them, far from it, really. He merely wasn't accustomed to them and the idea of anyone finding him... lovely. It was strange. Strange but welcome.  
Evidently the other had landed the reaction he hoped for, and Hubert knew all too well that his face was surely as red as Ferdinand's, for he saw his smile grow.

If one memory's hazy, it's that he doesn't recall who leaned in first. Or maybe they both did. Or maybe at a later date, Hubert could say this was one of the first times outside of the dangerous, empowering heat of a night's passion, amidst something more soft, more intimate in some way, that he had initiated it first. Their lips brushed as the short, yet too far distance closed, and their lips met in a gentle kiss.

It was in that moment, in all moments like these, that Hubert knew one thing. There may have been a lot he didn't know about himself still, but there was one thing he knew for certain.

He knew he loved Ferdinand von Aegir.  
And he always, always will.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for taking time to read this!! I appreciate any kudos, bookmarks, comments, I appreciate it all! And most importantly, I appreciate that you spared a moment to read my fic!
> 
> If you want to hit me up on social media or something to talk about ferdibert or general fe3h or anything really, my insta and twitter are both @kingfauna !


End file.
